Ivern's Dank Adventures
by Reaper of Happiness 420
Summary: Ivern is a happy, little treeguy and he goes on happy, little, dank adventures.
1. Prologue: Waking up

Ivern's Dank Adventures

Prologue: Waking up

Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters in this story nor do i own the beautiful splash art of Ivern, they both rightfully belong to Rito.

The morning rays of light slowly crept through the little, happy patches of leaves and cascaded ever so slightly down the creaking face of the old being. It crinkled its nose in annoyance and merely turned its wooden, long frame onto its side, so as to avoid the light of the rising sun. The leaves, upon seeing this lazy act, whispered between themselves and formed a plan. They played rock, paper and scissors (in their weird, leafy way) and decided that the loser would have to fall down on the sleepyhead in an attempt to wake him up. Billy, being the stupidest leaf, was too dumb to understand the concept of paper and scissors and merely formed a rock everytime (with his weird, leafy hands, in his weird, leafy way). This made him predictable, and eventually, he lost.

Billy was heart-broken. He just got a job at the local, lower tree branch and was going to deliver the needed nutrients to the tree. It wasn't as much of a fascinating job as the work at the higher tree branch, but come on- it was a job nevertheless! He was finally going to get noticed by the leaf of his dreams, maybe get her on a little leafy date and maybe even afford the new Leaf 9000 with the surround speakers and...

Ok. Stop right there. Nobody gives a shit about some dumb leaf (except for our good protagonist) so just continue with the story, you idiot of a writer...

*cough cough* So like i was saying, Billy lost. With a last tearful look of goodbye, he leapt off the tree and, being carried by the wind, landed straight on the stagnant Treant's ear. The half-man, half-tree, still enveloped in his slumber, shakily lifted his long, birchen, yet gentle hand and merely brushed the leaf off, rolled over once again on the comfortable grass beneath him and exhaled a sound of relief.

By now even the small family of Gray Jays was growing impatient. They had settled down on his shoulder two winters ago, near the Boletus mushroom brothers on his neck (the brothers always kept to themselves though, they were a rather discrete pack of mushrooms) and have lived there ever since, occasionally searching the lands for food. Margaret, the mother of the family, knowing just how important the Green Father was to the forest, flew down from her nest to the Treant's belly and began to poke him with her little beak (in her little birdy way) in an attempt to stir him from his sleep.

So far her attempts at waking the lazy-ass were seemingly proving futile. His belly and chest, as well as his back, were entirely made of beech, save from the small patches of oak here and there, so as to protect his most vital parts from danger, as well as the two little bocote twigs that, almost symmetrically, enfolded his abdomen. They protected his belly- the most important part of him. By now the entire forest probably knew the saying: "A hungry Bramblefoot, is an angry Bramblefoot."

Even thought his body proved to be more than helpful and sturdy on numerous, dangerous occasions, it certainly wasn't helpful for Margaret. Try as she might, but she couldn't even make a single dent in his thick layers of wood, at most getting slight groans and huffs from the Green Father. And that is when an idea struck her. When she was a younger bird who was still looking for a mate, and first met the Father, she was awestruck by his tender and graceful, moss buttcheeks. The way they would jiggle and bounce happily to the walking rhythm of the Treant always aroused her for some reason. Now, older and married, she was embarrassed for thinking such things and immediately set off to work.

Flying past his abdomen and to his back, she perched herself on one of the many vines that cascaded down his back. From there she dropped onto one of his buttcheeks and started to jab at his rear. At first there was little to no reaction from the Friend of the Forest, but Margaret was not the one to give up. The bird was always a solid worker and soon after she got into a hefty and systematic routine, the butt was growing weaker. She jumped on, proded, bit and chewed the tender ass and soon it yielded to her relentless assault. At this point, she could hear muffled moans coming from the Green Father, but she showed no signs of stopping, until eventually incoherent words escaped from his still raspy, morning throat. Soon enough, Margaret abrubtly ceased her actions and her face heated up as the words of the _almost_ awakened Treant finally became comprehensible:

"Mmm...those green fingers...oh yeah...that's right Daisy... yeeeah guurl... you know how to pinch back my shrub...oooh"

Every weird story, needs a weird start.


	2. Chapter 1: Picking up the goods

Ivern's Dank Adventures

Chapter 1: Picking up the goods

 **Well, time for a next chapterino. I think ill move the rating to M, because it'll get a bit inappropriate at times.**

Ivern woke up with a start, immediatelly feeling the tingles on his ass. He also immediatelly felt his head connecting with a branch, as he began getting up,which resulted in him falling back down on the grass with a painful "Ow!"

" _So much for being tall_..." He thought to himself as he tried to ease the pain away by sheepishly rubbing his forehead. To be honest, he did not mind falling back down on the comfy grass. He loved and respected his sleep- Ivern always had the most fascinating of dreams. Well, except of that one time when he dreamt of naked Gromp. Needless to say, he was mentally scarred since that ordeal, and ripped his own eyes out, so he wouldn't see another frog again, which took an entire week for him to regrow. As he prepared to venture back to the sleeping world, something sat on his head:

"Aww hell nah ya don't, ya sleepy, lanky bastard. Get yar ass up or i'll unload right here, right now."

Meet Margaret. His long known friend. One of his good old companions. Also sort of a bitch.

"Oh come on Margy..." Ivern yawned, "Just like 5 more minutes. Go fly around, gather some food for your illegitimate kids or something."

"The fuck ya just said 'bout my little munchkins ya old bastard? Ya better take that back or I swear down I'll unload right on ya wrinkly face."

"Margaret, for the love of the Kumungu honey bees, 5 minutes is all I need. Please, being a guardian of life is a har-"

"Oh don't ya gimme that bullshit again. I'm givin' ya 5 seconds or I'lll unload the fucking toad" With that the little, yet surpsingly scary bird, lifted her bum in the air and prepared to "unload."

Ivern, upon hearing the word "toad", got a little less sleepy and a little more conscious, as his thoughts started to steer back to the naked image of Gromp. Suddenly, getting up didn't seem that much of a bad idea to him, since he didn't want to dream of _that_ again.

"5..."

"Margaret, has 5 minutes of sleep done anybody any harm before?"

"4..."

"Margy, come on, I need this! Please!"

"3..."

"I-I'll treat you to some of the best wild blueberries, straight from my good source!"

"2..."

"He's a beaver called Wincent and has his own little blueberry farm down by the water strea-"

"Don't ya make me count to 1 ya rooty bastard! I swear to the God-Willow, I'll unload the toad, ya hear me? I'll unclog the frog, unroll the tadpole, uninhibit the bloody ribbit! I'LL UNBENCH THE FUCKING KENCH IVERN, YA HEAR ME?!"

 _"Oh dear, oh dear, what has got into her today (and everyday for that matter?) And why all these frog references?"_ Finally snapping out of his groggy state, partly because after hearing so much frog-related stuff he wasn't risking the chance of dreaming about Gromp again (but mainly because Margaret was a bitch) he smacked the bird off his face, slowly got up, cracking some stiff joints in the process, and set about on his morning routine.

"Oy! Ya can't just push me around like that, ya bastard!" Margy chirped, as she flew around the Green Father before finally settling down on his shoulder, in her little nest, where she usually resided.

Meanwhile Ivern made sure to do his stretches before going anywhere. Being a half-tree was nice and all, but it also came with some disadvantages, mainly stiff joints. After carefully popping, so as to not disturb the many residents that inhabited his body, and slowly cracking every stiff bone (branch?) he had (starting with the neck of course, so that he could fully observe the beauty of the morning forest) he embarked on his everyday, yet always new and creative, morning walk through the wilderness of the forest.

Ivern lived in the very central part of the Lightshine forest, one of the numerous forests that he has visited in his lifetime, so that he could quickly and efficiently go to anyone that desired his help (or his friendly company). His house, which wasn't exactly a house but more of a grassy field, partly hidden from view by bushes, trees and the like. It consisted of his leaf-pillow (which, in reality, where just leaves in a stack, but Ivern liked to call it a pillow) a little garden of daffodils and tulips, as well as an opening in the trees above him that he kept covered with branches in the day, so as not to get too warm from the sun, and un-covered during the night, so that he could stare at the beauty of the stars. However, it mainly consisted of a couple of shelves stuck to tree barks that he made from the wood of some dead Maple trees (he would never even dream of cutting a live tree down- the last time he did so was centuries ago). On them stood countless concoctions and mixtures alike, in little glassy containers that he gathered from humams that trespassed the forest.

Many of those humans were hunters, so in order to get them he had to search the leftover possesions that they dropped upon fleeing the forest (they always fled, one way or another, when coming face to face with the Bramblefoot). However, some were just lost merchants who happily traded some of their jars and glasses with Ivern, in exchange for directions and rare herbs. Many of them feared him at first and pleaded for their lives, but after being shown a friendly smile and offered some of Wincent's fresh, delicious blueberries, they usually calmed down a bit and were ready to do business with him, while others already knew him from tales and stories as the Bramblefoot and greeted him with warm gestures.

The truth was, Ivern was a human a long, long time ago. He almost completely forgot their culture, likes, and the general attitude of people. Even more so, he was often unnerved by their presence; the way they always took more than was necessary and didn't give back enough; the way they shaped the world around them based on their mischievious goals and desires; and mainly the way they were so cruel, doing as they damn pleased to the poor creatures of this world that he sought out so hard to protect. He didn't exactly despise humans, he too was once a human and they too were living creatures of this world, but he wasn't exactly on friendly terms with them either.

"So, ya old, wrinkly bastard, where ya taking us today, huh?"

"I'd just thought i'd stack up on some of Wincent's berries, i heard he was growing a new breed." He let out a chuckle, "anyway, why do you always call me a a bastard, huh, Margy?"

"Because ya an old, wrinkly bastard, ya old, wrinkly bastard.

Giving an exasperated, yet an amused, sigh at the respone, Ivern wandered forward from his little "house." The truth was, he rarely slept in it, always prefering the hospitality and company of other residents of the forest and, realistically speaking, he was a tree and could just root down into the earth and call it a night. Yet, he used to be a human and it seemed that old habits died hard after all. Anyhow, he was planning on wandering off again, maybe to another forest sometime soon, help out other creatures that needed it, but not quite yet.

However, there was something on his mind that he needed to clear. His butt felt tingly and every so often he felt a great need of scratching it. He had never felt this way before upon waking up, and judging from the fact that the only person around him that morning was Margaret, and the little squirrels that rested in the area that his scabbard used to reside (which he still had, all this time since the times he was a human) they were the only possible culprits.

Knowing the squirrels would never go to such means to wake him up, who did it was obvious:

"Margaret"

"What ya want ya bastard?"

"Did you happen to bite my ass or something?"

At that Margaret blushed slightly: "I only did it to wake ya up ya ungrateful bastard!"

"You're such a perverted bird."

"Well at least I ain't da one seductively shouting Daisy's name in mah sleep."

At that Ivern blushed slightly: "Ye? Well at least i get to bang, you ugly bitch."

"Pffftt, hahaha and how'd ya think I got me lovely kids? Ya such an idiot!"

"Well that just makes you a whore!"

"You take that back golemfucker!"

As their daily bickering continued, they made continued on their path to Wincent's. During the journey to the beaver, Ivern was greeted by every denizen of the forest that he happened to stumble upon (he was very popular with almost all the living beings, after all). It was good because he didn't have to listen to the bitch-bird's voice all the time:

"Hey Ivern!"

"Why, hello there little dendron mushrooms! I hope the weather is up to your liking."

"Hey Ivern!"

"Hey hey, little lippertick apples! I hope you're growing just fine!

"Hey Ivern!"

"A rather good morning ain't it, Miss. Wood Mouse? I hope the seeds and grains are good this season."

And so forth and so forth. It did distract him from listening to Margaret, but after a while it was getting tiring. After another hundred of "Hey Ivern!" his responses turned a into mere "Hey" and "Hi." Not that he held a grudge against the little animals and plants or anything, it was just that he didn't have his usual energy for it. He did value his sleep after all. Maybe if he got the little 5 extra minutes of sleep he wouldn't be...damn Margaret.

As he approached the clearing of the forest, which led to the Rocky Hills, behind which stood the beaver's lake house, Ivern was met by one the last denizens of the forest: The Black Fungus.

"Hey Ivern!"

The Treant, be it from Margaret's constant yapping or the fact that he was too occupied thinking about Wincent's goodies, did not hear the little Fungus and solely past him without so much as a glance. The little Fungus, who's name was Boston, did not take it lightly. The Green Father, his role model, his fucking master, the protector and most valued member of their forest just dismissed him like that. As Ivern walked through the bushes and went out of sight, Boston's eyes flared with rage as he let out the most wicked laugh possible for a fungus...

...one day he would become the greatest evil in all of Runeterra.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not quite yet."

"Are we there yet?"

"No"

"Are we there yet, ya old, wrinkly bastard?"

To say that Ivern was getting irritated by the incessant rant of the bitch-bird was an understatement. He was slowly getting pissed off and very soon he wouldn't be afraid to show it.

"Almost...there...Margaret" Ivern spoke through his clenched teeth, trying his very best to hold his composure.

*30 second later*

"Are we there yet?"

That did it.

"Margaret, i swear upon the thousand sunflowers of the Northern Fields, that if you don't SHUT THE F-"

"Heya Ives"

Snapping out of his angered trance and looking into the direction that the voice came from, he noticed his long-know friend, standing next to his little beaver hut. Ivern was overjoyed that he wouldn't have to listen to Margaret's croaky voice anymore.

"Wincent! Long time no see my little fella, how's the wife? Tell me everything!"

"Ah she ain"t too bad...too bad. Why don't you come inside, i was just about to have some tea."

The beaver's hut was entirely made out of wood, with long, strong supporting planks holding the entire structure in place so it would not fall into the water. The hut was built in the middle of the lake, with a wooden bridge connecting it to the shore. The bridge stopped around 5 meters before the hut itself and left a gap. It wasn't a problem for the beaver as he just swam over and climbed the ladder on the other side, while Ivern just rootcalled over. One might think this was for protection purposes, but it was mainly because Wincent preffered solitude.

After having their tea, which consisted of coffee, rasberry brownies and bananaberries, (Wincent had every type of berries ever) they sat around on wooden stools on the little terrace that Wincent's hut had. After politely accepting a cigar made by the famous Graves company, how the beaver got hold of them is a mystery, and giving one to Margaret too, him and the Wincent got right into business:

"So Ives, you have been my client for a long time now *puff puff* so I grew for you a little something extra this time"

"Lemonberries?" The beaver shook his head, "hmm *puff puff* Melonberries!"

"Nah-ah" Wincent only smiled mischieviously, the berries he grew were a totally new kind, Ivern would never guess.

"If it's better than Melonberries *puff puff*...it could only be BERRYBERRIES!" With that Ivern stood up triumphantly, knowing he got the beaver in his grasp.

"Haha, it's better if i *puff puff* just show you." And with that Wincent got up, went back into the house, and came back 2 minutes later with a little bag of what seemed to be some green berries. The smell was absolutely amazing and Ivern was getting hungry already.

"Here my man, take these, they're on the house this time, so *puff puff* you don't have to give me the Fire flowers or the green-feathered moss." Wincent gave a cheeky smile to Ivern as he handed him the goods.

"Wow thanks dude *puff puff* also please don't call me a man, i don't like being associated with humans. Anyway *puff puff* why are you giving me these for free?" Ivern asked rather perplexed by the beaver's generosity.

"Sorry Ives and let's just say, I need someone to test their rich goodness first *puff puff* before taking them on the market."

As they parted their ways with polite goodbyes, and thank yous since Wincent let them keep the cigars, Margaret eyed both the beaver and the berries rather skeptically. She knew something was up but, being the bitch-bird she was, didn't bother warning Ivern. As they were about to get off the bridge and onto the shore, the beaver smiled and whispered to himself:

"Don't even trip bro."

(Somewhere, in another world, in another place, a little tear rolls down Graves' face...)


	3. Chapter 2: A happy little place

Ivern's Dank Adventures

Chapter 2: A happy little place

 **Hey guys, sorry for a bit of a late update, I'm having a lot of school work right now. Anyway, let's go!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Pink Guy, he belongs to Papau Franku.**

As Ivern and Margaret made their way back into the forest, the sun was ever so slightly climbing up the little clouds in the sky, like a staircase. As it climbed the fluffy clouds, in its own, little, sunny way, it was beginning to feel tired. Its flames began to flicker, and it looked on at the sky. With the last of its strength, fueled by a massive amount of will and determination, it leapt off the last of the clouds and...

...Noon was up. And what did that mean exactly?

Well it meant that Ivern was probably hurrying, or running even, to a very special place in the forest. Being the adventurer that he was, he knew many beautiful places across almost the entirety of Valoran. Be it the breathtaking Ironspike mountains in the Freljord, the tranquility of the temples in Ionia, the long lost knowledge of the Urtisan city or even the mysteries of the Shadow Isles, Ivern has seen it all (well, he only trespassed the Shadow Isles, the place gave him the creeps).

Even so, after visiting so many marvellous places, only this one made him truly appreciate the world.

* **Flashback***

Once, when walking to Wincent's for a daily supply of berries, be it from day-dreaming or simply from getting lost in the beauty of the life around him, he went down the wrong path, one that did not lead over the Rocky Hills, but rather through them. When he realised his mistake, he did not turn back but, being the adventurer that he was, kept on going down the peculiar path.

What the path led him to however, was nothing more than the old remains of a burnt out part of the wood. There was no life here, just ashen trees, charcoal and bones. A heavy, melancholy atmosphere hang in the almost suffocating air around him, as Ivern became very, very sad and angry. He was sad because no life deserved a fate such as this, and angry because he was late...late to save it.

Clenching his fists, he was furiously determined to bring this place back to its former glory. Ivern reached for the nearest tree, held its branches between his wooden, yet delicate, fingers and tried his hardest to find some remaining life-force, a little bacteria, a cell, even some goddamned resource he could use to make life grow out of this tormented land.

Nothing.

Next he tried the burnt ground. He dipped his feet and toes into the rough earth, nothing like the soft earth that he usually walked upon, and began to grow his roots. The process was agonizingly slow since there were absolutely 0 nutrients he could feed off. Instead, the Green Father tried to feel the ground beneath him and search for any possible "survivors."

Nothing.

Ivern's envied forbearance was beginning to grow short. For once he truly did not know how to help. He did what he would always do, what he _could_ always do. Ivern looked upon the hideous place, and felt his soul cry out. He collapsed on the ashen land, and let his tears stain the ground. After what felt like an eternity, or when his entire hope shriveled up, he started to get ready to leave, there and then, but something steered deep within him.

It felt like millenia since he heard it. The deep voice of wisdom, the spirit of the God-Willow. It guided Ivern on his first steps as the Friend of the Forest, but he hasn't heard it since. And it spoke to him:

 _Give_

That one, little and seemingly average word, held so much wisdom and power that it opened Ivern's tearful eyes to a new level of perception, placing him on yet another new path, one that might one day lead him to the very essence of life itself. The warmth and understanding that the message brought with it, washed over Ivern in an endless waterfall of serenity, cleaning out every little hole and cranny in his body filled with sorrow and rage. Afterwards, the insight that came to rest inside of Ivern's before troubled mind, dried him with a blanket of tranquility.

As Ivern begun to feel the peace inside of him, he looked up from the tear stained ground and saw a vivid vision of what he wanted this land to be- of what it deserved to be. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled a true smile. He now knew what had to be done.

Grasping at the forces held within him, he felt the might of nature seep throughout his entire being. Embracing the love he wanted to give to this land, his hands started to glow with the magic of life. Without a second thought, he smacked his hands against the solid ground and poured his life essence into the thick soil.

The process strained every piece of wood, branch and leaf that made up his body. Soon, he was begninning to feel weak and tired as he gave away his inner energy, even expieriencing a lot of pain now and again, but not once did it cross his mind to stop. This had to happen, he _wanted_ it to happen.

As he eventually felt every fibre of himself being stretched and torn at, he gave a painful shout and was thrown aback by the force of his own magics, blacking out.

At last he regained his conciousness. He felt extremely frail, like he lost a part of himself, and when he finally gained enough strength to open his eyes, what he saw left him in a beautiful, so beautiful, daze...

* **End of flashback***

"Oy, ya old, wrinkly bastard! Where are ya takin' us now, huh?"

Ivern let out a small chuckle in response and merely lifted his finger in the direction ahead of them.

"Oh you will see, haha... yes, you _will_ see..."

Hearing the engimatic response from the Green Father only confused Margaret even more, and as she was about to question him again, they stepped into a hidden bush that seemed to grow out of the road for no apparent reason. Ivern _definetely_ had nothing to do with this...

As Ivern ran through the medley of grass and flowers, he looked up through the long, thick grass to see that Noon was already up. Being so close to the place now, he could feel the leaves tingling on his neck and feel a lavender smell, drawing him in, like an insect to light. Ivern was starting to get annoyed with himself for creating such a massive bush, but in the end it was all for protection. He needed to hurry.

"Hang on"

"Huh? What d'ya mea-"

Ivern started sprinting.

"OH DEAR FUCKIN' LORD GROMPULOUS KEVIN RIBBITTON OF CROAKSWORTH, WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK ARE YA DOI-"

Ivern tripped slightly over a lying rock, which caused him to lose his balance, and if it wasn't for him elongating his other leg to regain his balance, they would probably have crashed. Nevertheless, the momentum kept Ivern going and he kept on sprinting, apologizing to Margaret along the way.

"ARE YA OUTTA YA MIND?! ARE YA LOCO?! HAVE THE FUCKING ROOTS SUCKED YA BRAIN OUT?! DO YA WANT MY KIDDIES TO DIE?! Shh, shh, it's ok sweethearts, mommy''s right here, nothing to worry abo-IVERN WATCH OUT! A TREE! A ROCK! A JEWISH MERCHANT!" Wait a second... a Jewish merchant?!

"Hold on Margy!"

As Ivern uttered these words, he dived through the last remaining patch of leaves and grass...

* **Slow motion***

Ivern was flying through the air, and so was Margaret (No, seriously, she had enough of clinging onto the bastard and was literally flying through the air) and so were the three eggs that fell out of the bitch-bird's nest. Margaret looked on in horror as her unborn children began their descent onto the ground. When one of the eggs was about to hit the ground, out of nowhere, Ivern's hand grabbed it and held it as softly as he held daisy's golem titties.

The 2nd and 3rd eggs were having a rather troublesome dillema between themselves about which one of them would get smashed on the ground and which one into a tree. However, before they could finish their dispute, Ivern grabbed onto them with his free hand, much to Margaret's relieve. However, her jaw soon dropped to the ground as she did not predict what he would do next:

With a shit-eating grin, Ivern started to juggle the eggs, continuously staring Margaret in the eye. Whether he did this from spite or just to mess with the bird a bit for harassing him so much (probably the latter, knowing how Ivern wasn't the evil type) didn't matter, since they were about to crash onto the fucking ground.

* **End of slow motion***

Ivern collapsed onto the ground a bit painfully, considering the fact that he couldn't slow down the momentum with his hands- they were too preoccupied with protecting the eggs. He did, however, manage to at least create a little, short bush to cushion his fall slightly. It still didn't help much, as the momentum carried him forward, trashing him a bit over the ground. However, he cared not for his bruised body, becoming immediatelly transfixed on the beauty around him as he became aware of his surroundings.

It was a bit of a different story with Margaret though. She may not have sustained any physical injuries, but the stress that came with watching _that bastard_ juggle her children, and in such a carefree fashion too, made her fly around madly in search for her precious eggs. When she finally fixed her gaze upon where they lay, cradled in the Green Father's delicate hands, she went into a frenzy.

"Ya...YA...irresponsible, scum of a bastard! Do ya even have one, bloody idea of the amount of fuckin' stress ya put me through?! My lovely, little munchkins falling through the thin air because of ya, YA, OLD, WRINKLY, BAST-"

"Watch" was all the response the hypnotized Treant could give her.

Flabbergasted by the response, Margaret let loose yet another torrent of verbal abuse and was about to give Ivern a big slap when the Treant delicately grabbed her head and simply turned the bitch-bird around in the direction he was looking in.

What she saw left her speechless, and she completely forgot Ivern's antics. All around her, flowers, trees, bushes, all of different and absurd shades of colours grew up to the sky. Birds chirped and flew around the mezmerizing pattern of flowers, while red squirrels climbed the almost impossible shapes of trees.

She looked on, noticing that the entire meadow was surrounded by blue-leafed trees, covered with beehives, bird nests and cascading vines that wrapped themselves around the moss covered tree barks. Those gorgeous vines were also completely entangled around the trees' branches, and fell from them, dropping down to about four meters above the ground. The vines ended wiith blue and purple flowers, which created a sort of a blue-purpleish ceiling above her. It was so beautiful...

But that wasn't all. The entire grass bed was completely submerged in white and yellow pansies, whom attracted many insects. In the middle of it, was a little pond, with Blue dragonflies flying around happily (probably playing tag) with little, happy frogs sitting around on lilipads in the water. A swan couple swam through the clear, emerald water, and one could watch it all from a hollow log that lay close by, with a small fox family reclining inside.

However, the most glorious thing to witness was probably the massive tree trunk that stood at the furthest point of the meadow, watching over the entire theatre of life. It was wide and really high and had a big whole in it, into which the sun rays shone its light, revealing what seemed to be a green plant that grew inside of the hole.

Ivern, finally breaking free of the trance, looked over to his companion. He smiled as he saw that she was completely stunned by this land's endless beauty.

"Quite a view, isn't it?"

Not expecting a response anytime soon, Ivern gently set down the eggs in a comfortable grassy spot where he could see them, stood up and walked in the direction of the tree trunk. He looked around as he did so, never having enough of the amazing scenery. As he approached the plant, he could already smell the fine aroma. The Green Father gave a long sniff.

"Mmmm" _Sativa_

Picking off a few buds, Ivern calmly walked back to where Margaret sat. She didn't seem to notice him as he sat down and began to grind the weed between his fingers. With the task complete, he called for his spider friend, Mary, that lived behind his left ear.

"Mary, be a dear and make me some blunt wraps, please."

"Say no more."

She got right into work and soon created the finest cobweb blunt wraps. Mary passed them to Ivern, who thanked her, and skittered back to her web to enjoy her Arachnophobia magazine. Some of the front page titles on it included: _Spiderman: Friend or Foe? Vilemaw: What a real spider's diet should look like!_ or _An exclusive interview with Elise: "I hear a man likes a lady, with legs."_

Soon, with the power of Ivern's experienced fingers, the doobies were rolled (he used some tiny leaves as filters.) Sticking one between his lips, he reached into his little wooden pocket for his lighter, but found only an empty space.

"Ah shit, must have left it at Wincent's."

However, Ivern had a 2nd plan. He called for yet another friend, a butterfly named Jane, who wanted to start a proffesional career as a rapper and lived on a Milkweed flower on Ivern's chest.

"Jane, you've always had a knack for hip-hop. Could i please listen to your mixtape?"

"For you, I'll perform it live, green man."

 _Fuck Drake, real hip-hop!_

 _I'm a spiritual lyrical individual spiritual miracle lyrical individual spiritual miracle individual..._

 _Fuck lil Wayne and the government's corrupt. Fuck the government, cause i don't give a fuck!_

 _I'm a spiritual lyrical miracle lyrical spiritual illest of miracle lyricals skippin' and flippin' and dippin'..._

 _Real hip-hop, don't you ever forget it. It's that underground shit, it's the white boy that said it!_

The fire that was the mixtape lit Ivern's blunt, and the Treant took a long, big hit before releasing it in a massive smoke cloud. The shit felt so good, and the way Ivern wanted to just lay againt the log, relax and watch the two swans, proved it.

"Thaaanks Janeee..."

"Got ya fam."

The little butterfly then flew high and passed through the smoke cloud, breathing the delicacy in. However, because she was already flying "high' and now got high, the two highs via the formula: high2^420high x log 3spongebob created a space rift through which Pink Guy stepped through. He looked at Ivern and said:

"Hey b0ss could u gimme de pussi plz?"

He then grabbed the butterfly and the both of them got sucked back into the portal, dissapearing out of existance. Lesson learned: don't be a shitty wannabe rapper.

Ivern, too high to notice any of this, just kept on smoking the big, fat blunt and looking at the swans. He then remembered why he was hurrying so quickly in the first place.

"Heyy, Margy, oyyy, Margy, comee heree..."

Margaret, finally snapping out of her daze (and seemingly less angry now after witnessing such beauty and her children being safe) flew to Ivern, but being a bitch-bird, still gave him a good ol' smack across the face.

"OOOOOOOOH SNAP SON!" the trees around the meadow shouted between each other.

"That's for juggling my children ya piece of shit bastard!"

Ivern, who wasn't even halfway through the blunt monstrosity, was too slow to even register what just happened. Instead, he just motioned for Margaret to sit by him, passed her the blunt and telling her to "Watch."

Margy did as instructed, for once, took a hit and collapsed on the log. She found herself a comfy moss patch, took another hit and passed the dutchie back to Ivern.

"Soo, Ivo, wat am i supposed tooo watc-Wooooow..."

It all came to her then- she finally understood why Ivern wanted to run. In this precise moment, the sun seemed to shine at such an angle that it created a beautiful, psychedelic image. The light rays passed through the blue and purplish vine flowers, illuminating the ground in their enthralling colours. As the light rays moved, so did the colours across the ground, mixing in with the white and yellow pansies to create surreal images and patterns.

"Ivo, whyy don't ya takee me here moar ofteen maaan...?"

"Welll *puff puff* maybee if you weren't suuch a *exhales* bitchh for oonce..."

At that Ivern clicked his fingers, and everyone already knew what to do. The frogs started playing on their tongues (bass), the dragonflies buzzed their wings (guitars), the squirrels started smacking the mushrooms (drums), the fox family started to shake the pollen-filled flowers (maraccas) while the swans began to sing some deep chill Reggae.

"Dudee, this is soo goood..."

"Well, you see, this place is now sort of likee a part of me, *puff puff* you knoow? I gave somee of my life forcee to allow this land to live, aand becausee that life forcee is still mee, I'm *puff puff* connected with this place. I can feeel the buzzingg of the dragonflies, the jumping force of the frogs in the pond, even the whistling windd *puff puff* that soars through the trees. It's all mee..."

"Ya high as fuck Ivo, hahaha..."

"No, Margy, I'm *puff puff* raather serious...and high as fuck..."

"Wow...ya truly can be amazing, ya know that...?"

At that Ivern just became really cheerful and felt like talking to Margy, since the both of them were in such a good mood.

"Yoo, Margy, *puff puff* I've been likee thinkingg and shieet *puff puff, passes weedgar to Margy* , and like, if i hit myself, and it hurts, am i weak or am i strong...? "

The weed was really getting to him now.

"Wow, dudeee *puff puff* that's deep..."

"Ye..."

"Ohhh *puff puff* shit maan..."

"Ye..."

"Oohh, Ivo..."

"Ye...?"

"If likeee, *puff puff* two right-handed bears kill eeeach other, who's left...?"

"Wooow dudee..."

"I knoww *puff puff, passes blunt to Ivern* righht...?"

"Wait, Margyy, *puff puff* howw comee, likee, our nose runs *puff puff* buut our feet smell?"

"Dudeee, that's likee exactlyy like the Matrix..."

"Andd why's *puff puff* thattt...?"

"Cause likee, they also ran and had noses maaan..."

"Dudee, you just *puff puff, passes the L to Margy* opened my eyes to so many different dimensions..."

"Ye dudee...*puff puff* "

"Margy...we're lucky we weren't booorn in Noxus, you know...?"

"And why's that bro...?"

"..."

*puff puff* "..."

"Why's what...?"

" You said: Why are we luckyy *puff puff, passes blunt to Ivern* that wee weren't born in Noxus..?"

"What...? Why did I *puff puff* say that...?"

"Why did youu say what...?"

With their seemingly endless conversation going nowhere and everywhere, Ivern got the munchies.

"Dudee, *puff puff* I'm hungryy, let's eat the berries..."

"Ye Ivo, I'm also starving..."

As they dug out the berries, Margaret, being in a good mood now, would have probably warned Ivern of the berries, but was too high to remember and just ate them together with Ivern.

After a while, Ivern's eyes snapped open.

"Margy..."

"Ivo..."

" **What the fuck is this**..."

 **Edit: Fixed some grammar mistakes, but I'm blind so there's probably some left.**


End file.
